


Drives Me Wild

by JangJaeYul



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angry Sex, Domestic, Established Relationship, Fights, Jealousy, M/M, Smut, Unhealthy Relationships, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 04:37:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13356657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JangJaeYul/pseuds/JangJaeYul
Summary: What do you do when your fiancé is pissing you off and you're feeling just a little too jealous?  You break things and have angry sex, of course.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a story about taking an unhealthy relationship and beginning to make it better. The unhealthiness is depicted. The making it better is also depicted. If you have experienced domestic violence of any kind, this story may be a little too close to home for you. Read at your own discretion.

“And then _Tao_ said-”

Minseok sighs, dropping his head to look at his hand where it’s fiddling with a napkin. Luhan has been talking for twenty minutes at this point, and not once has he asked Minseok anything close to “how was your day,” or “was work alright,” or “what did you put in this chicken, darling, it tastes great!”

“I’m sorry, am I boring you?”

Minseok looks up. Luhan is staring at him, one eyebrow raised, on the borderline between amused and annoyed.

“No, carry on,” Minseok says, waving one lazy hand. “You know how much I love hearing about your _wonderful lunches_ with _the guys_.”

Luhan’s lips press into a straight line, but Minseok can’t really bring himself to care that he’s pissing him off - nor, for that matter, stop himself from going further.

“Please, tell me what Kris said next. Or Tao. Or Yixing. Or whichever one it is you’re fucking at the moment.”

Luhan’s jaw drops for the briefest second before a frown sets into his brows and his lips curl up in anger.

“Are you fucking serious?” he says, and the disbelief in his voice should tell Minseok something but he honestly doesn’t give a fuck anymore.

Minseok drops the napkin on the table and pushes his chair back. “I’m so sick of hearing about _Tao this_ and _Kris that_ and _you’ll never believe what the guys did today!_ ” He stands up, begins clearing the plates even though he hasn’t finished eating. “You know what I did today? I worked late, and then I sprinted to get to the shop before they closed so that I could buy fresh stuff to put in the dinner that I then came home and cooked. For you. And you come home late and there’s no _‘Hi Minnie’_ , no _‘how was your day, honey?’_ you just sit down and start eating and when you’re done eating you start talking and it’s about _the guys_ again.” He smacks the plates down in the sink hard enough that there’s an ominous _clink_ from one of them, then rounds on Luhan. “If you love the guys so much, why don’t you marry them instead of me?”

He doesn’t mean it, feels a little ridiculous saying it, but the look on Luhan’s face is almost indulgent and so Minseok doubles down. He lifts his hand and begins working the ring off his finger. There’s a savage sort of pleasure at the shock in Luhan’s eyes.

“Minseok-”

“What?” Minseok snarls. “You don’t believe me? You don’t think I know I deserve better than this shit? You spend all day with your friends and then you come home and talk about them all night. You don’t even talk _to_ me anymore, you just talk _at_ me. I’m fucking sick of it.” He finally gets the ring off and hurls it down on the ground at Luhan’s feet. The metal makes a small pinging sound against the tiles and skitters off somewhere out of sight, and Minseok feels a small pang at its disappearance that only hardens his heart.

“Minseok,” Luhan begins again, and this time he sounds genuinely angry. “You’re being ridiculous. I’m not-”

“Ridiculous? My feelings are ridiculous?” Minseok takes a step closer. “Oh, that’s right, you’re the only one who’s allowed to feel things, and think things. It’s _your_ thoughts that matter, not mine. My thoughts are inconvenient! They get in the way of you talking about - which one is it you’re fucking - Yixing?”

“I’m _not fucking Yixing_ ,” Luhan growls. “I’m not fucking _any_ of them, they’re my friends, are you insane?”

“I guess I must be!” Minseok yells. “I must be insane! Why else would I have spent _four fucking years_ of my life with a guy who would rather be out with his friends than spend any actual time with me?”

“Babe-” Luhan says, and he’s too close to placating now, his hands reaching out to hold Minseok, to calm him, and Minseok doesn’t want that so he steps back until his butt hits the sink, until he has nowhere else to go.

“Don’t touch me!” he screams, and he picks up the vase behind the taps and throws it, flowers and all.

He doesn’t even mean to hit Luhan, just to scare him, but the vase glances off Luhan’s arm before it hits the wall behind him and shatters.

“You fucking crazy-”

It’s on the tip of Minseok’s tongue to tell him to grow up, it didn’t even hit him that hard, but then Luhan turns back to him and the anguish on his face is so far beyond physical pain that it shocks Minseok into silence.

“ _Why the fuck would you do that?_ ”

And that’s when Minseok realises what he threw. Because in shards on the floor behind Luhan is the vase Luhan’s mother gave them as an engagement present, two months before she died.

“Oh fuck,” he whispers, the heat rising in his face, _no, oh no, I take it back_ , but now Luhan is crossing the room and grabbing him by the back of his shirt and lifting him off his feet.

“Put me down!” Minseok screams, kicking at Luhan’s knees and earning himself a shake and a more secure hold under the armpits. He still resists, kicking and scratching at Luhan enough to dislodge himself, half falling to the floor, and Luhan swears and drags him out of the kitchen and into the living room.

“We’re having this out now, you crazy bitch,” Luhan snarls, letting Minseok go and pushing him across the room. Minseok staggers towards the couch and gasps, unable to locate the source of the sudden pain he feels, until he looks down and sees the blood on the carpet. He lifts his foot, and there’s a sizable piece of glass embedded in his heel. The vase. _Fuck._

He can’t hold back a whimper, hands trembling as he sits down.

“Pull it out your goddamn self,” Luhan says, nevertheless whirling around and storming back into the kitchen to grab the first aid kit from the cabinet. Minseok has a moment to be grateful that Luhan never takes his shoes off when he gets home, until the kit flies at his head and he has to duck with a yelp.

“You hit me with a vase, I hit you with a box,” Luhan says. When Minseok looks up at him he is leaning in the doorway, his expression pure contempt as he looks down at Minseok’s blood on the carpet. “Make sure you get it all out, cause there’s no fucking way I’m driving you to the emergency department tonight.”

“Why do you hate me so much?” Minseok cries, then grits his teeth as he pulls the glass out.

“Well you seem to hate me,” Luhan retorts, “so it seems pretty fair!”

Minseok lets out a noise that is equal parts frustration and pain. He bends over to look closely at the wound, but there doesn’t seem to be any more glass in there so he finds a plaster in the kit and sticks it over the cut. The piece of glass he - somewhat childishly - throws at Luhan.

“Oh, that’s it,” Luhan says, pushing himself off the doorway. He picks up the glass from the floor and tosses it over his shoulder into the kitchen, then crosses the room and grabs Minseok by the wrists. “That’s two things you’ve thrown at me tonight. Get the fuck out, you need a time out.”

“This is my house too!” Minseok yells in his face, struggling against Luhan’s grip as he drags Minseok towards the front door.

“Yeah, and I’m not the one who’s throwing shit.”

“Luhan, let go, you’re hurting me!”

“You think you’re not hurting me?” Luhan stops walking, stops dragging him, but doesn’t release his hold on Minseok. “You think this is fun and games for me? You’re throwing vases at me and accusing me of cheating - am I supposed to be okay with all of that? You threw my fucking ring under the fridge, what do you want from me?” His grip tightens on Minseok’s wrists, and he shakes him, still yelling in his face. “What more do you want, Minseok? _What am I supposed to do here?_ ”

“I just want you to love me!” Minseok screams, inches from Luhan’s face, rage incarnate and so close to tears he’s shaking.

“I do love you!” Luhan shouts back.

“Then _fucking prove it for once!_ ”

Luhan’s grip is almost cutting off the circulation in Minseok’s arms, and it feels like his hands are going to break off when Luhan’s fingers dig in and yank hard enough for him to fall that half step forward.

Luhan lets go of Minseok’s wrists, grabs his face, and kisses him.

Minseok makes a noise of protest and lifts his hands to push Luhan away. Luhan steps closer, wraps his arms around Minseok, squeezes him close and kisses harder, his mouth unyielding, teeth biting almost viciously at Minseok’s bottom lip.

“I hate you,” Minseok grits out between Luhan’s lips.

“I know you do,” Luhan growls back.

“Let go of me,” Minseok hisses, and only half means it.

“No.”

Luhan picks him up, one arm under his leg and the other around his waist, and it’s an awkward position but all Minseok can do is cling to him as Luhan carries him down the hall to their bedroom. He struggles - not hard enough to make Luhan drop him, just enough to say that he’s still fighting this - until Luhan physically throws him on the bed and crawls on top of him, caging him in with his arms either side of Minseok’s head. Minseok scoots back, crawls backwards up the bed as best he can with only one working foot, and Luhan grabs him by the arm, pulls him upright enough that he can yank Minseok’s shirt up and over his head. He throws it away across the room and slams Minseok back down onto the bed with a hand against his chest.

“You think I don’t love you?” Luhan growls, deep in his chest, and Minseok feels all the hairs on his arms stand up. “You think I’m fucking someone else?”

Minseok pushes back, grabs the front of Luhan’s shirt and pulls it apart. Three of the buttons pop off, flying in different directions, and Minseok makes quick work of the others, then shoves the shirt back off Luhan’s shoulders.

“You think I would sleep with anyone else?” Luhan says again, hands now working at the fly of Minseok’s jeans. “You really think anyone else could make me this crazy?”

He pulls Minseok’s jeans and briefs down his legs and leaves them sitting on the edge of the bed as he unbuckles his own belt and lets his slacks fall to his knees. Minseok pushes himself up on his elbows and watches Luhan pull his cock out of his boxers and take it in his hand, stroking it until it’s fully hard.

“Prove it,” Minseok spits. “Prove you’re crazy about me. Cause I don’t believe you.”

Luhan’s face is mutinous as he leans over and reaches into the side table. When he comes back he has a palm full of lube and is coating it over his fingers.

“I’ll fucking prove it,” he hisses. “Spread your legs.”

Minseok plants his feet belligerently apart on the bedspread and glares at Luhan while he finishes slicking up his fingers.

“Hurry up,” he says, “I’m getting old here.”

“Shut up,” Luhan says. He shoves Minseok’s legs even wider apart, unnecessarily wide, to the point that Minseok’s hamstrings start to hurt. Then, without further ado, he pushes a finger inside.

Minseok gasps, his head falling back between his shoulders. With an effort he raises it again to glare at Luhan’s finger slipping in and out of him.

“God,” Luhan says, derisive, “if that’s how you react to a finger, how the hell are you gonna cope with my cock?”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” Minseok retorts. “It’s not that big.”

“Fuck you.”

“You are.”

That earns him the ghost of a grin, before Luhan’s face hardens again and he pushes back in with two fingers. Minseok groans and bites his lip, fighting against the ache in his thighs, the discomfort around Luhan’s fingers, the throbbing pain in his injured foot.

“How the fuck could you think I’m not crazy about you?” Luhan says, lower now, his face ducked to press a kiss to the inside of Minseok’s trembling thigh. “You’re all I think about. You’re all I talk about, hell, I have a ‘Minseok jar’ at work that the guys make me put a dollar into every time I talk about you, and then at the end of the week I buy us all beer.” He pushes another finger in and grinds a whine out of Minseok’s throat. “That’s why I was out so late tonight, because I talked about you _fifty times_ this week. That’s fifty dollars of beer I had to buy. And it’s worth it to spend that much, because I want them all to know how much I love you.” He curls his fingers, bites Minseok’s thigh at the resulting moan. “I can’t stand the thought that they might not know what you are to me. You’re everything. _Everything_.”

Luhan withdraws his fingers, crawls up between Minseok’s legs and grabs his wrists to pin them over his head.

“But if you can’t see that,” he says, leaning down to graze his teeth along the line of Minseok’s jaw, “if that’s not getting through to you… then I might have to be a little more explicit.”

He reaches down with one hand, positions himself, and slides inside in one strong push.

Minseok can’t help the ragged noise that tears from his mouth. Luhan is pinning him down, one hand on his wrists and the other on his hip, and Minseok has nowhere to go. He can’t move. He can’t fight. He can’t even look away from Luhan, who is barely a breath from Minseok’s nose and devouring him with his gaze. Minseok can only stare into Luhan’s eyes, anger and frustration shifting to make room for the sparks kindling at the base of his spine. This is the most painful love he’s ever felt.

When Luhan pulls out and thrusts back in, Minseok’s eyes slide closed on a gasp. With the next thrust, Luhan’s lips are on his throat, kissing and sucking, teeth grazing the skin.

“You are,” Luhan says, words pulsing to the staccato of his thrusts, “the most - high - maintenance - angriest - most jealous - moodiest - _baby_ I’ve - ever - met.” He shoves himself in as deep as he can go and grinds his hips in a brutal circle. “And I knew that before I proposed to you. Why the _fuck_ would I go looking elsewhere now?”

Minseok has no reply to that, but he scarcely needs one. Having found the spot that makes Minseok scream, Luhan is now abusing it with every thrust of his hips. Minseok grits his teeth, unwilling to give Luhan the satisfaction.

“You’re holding back,” Luhan growls. “You know I hate it when you do that.”

“Bite me,” Minseok gasps, because god dammit, he’s not going to let Luhan know that he’s getting to him.

“If that’s what you’re into,” Luhan says. It’s enough to punch a surprised laugh out of Minseok, and he opens his eyes to see that Luhan is grinning down at him, all the anger gone from his face, and Minseok smiles in return, wriggles his hands out of Luhan’s grasp, takes Luhan’s face in his hands and kisses him.

“I love you,” he gasps, then moans. Spurred on by the sound, Luhan grinds his hips in harder, one hand braced beside Minseok’s shoulder as he kisses him again and again.

“I love you too, you stupid idiot,” Luhan murmurs against his lips.

“I don’t want to fight with you anymore.”

“Are you kidding?” Luhan pulls back to look at Minseok’s face. “I want to fight like this for the rest of our lives!”

Minseok laughs, and wraps his arms around Luhan’s shoulders.

“Come on,” he says, “fuck me harder, I’m close.”

Luhan obliges with a brutal thrust that knocks Minseok about half a foot further up the bed.

“You can do better than that,” Minseok gasps, and Luhan rises to the challenge with an indignant snort. Thirty seconds later Minseok is coming with a cry all over his chest, and Luhan grunts in agreement as he buries himself inside Minseok, hips jerking through his own orgasm.

While Minseok is still getting his breath back, Luhan slides off the bed and pulls his pants up.

“Here,” he says, picking up the box of tissues from the bedside table and lobbing it at Minseok’s chest. “Clean yourself up.”

Minseok just blinks after him for a second as Luhan leaves the room. He’s confused, and a little hurt, because he thought the fight was over. Clearly not. _Fuck_. He’s going to have to do some major grovelling.

He pulls a couple of tissues from the box, and has just finished wiping the come from his chest when Luhan returns, the first aid kit in his hand.

“I’ve got you,” Luhan says, and pulls another handful of tissues to wipe between Minseok’s legs. Then he sits down on the end of the bed and pulls Minseok’s foot into his lap. “I want to get a better look at this.”

Minseok hisses in pain as Luhan pulls the bandaid off, and bites his tongue to keep from crying out as Luhan prods at the wound with what feels like a Q-tip.

“Hmm. Doesn’t look like there’s anything still in there.” Luhan sighs and leans over to drop the Q-tip and the tissues into the rubbish, then sticks a new plaster over the wound and sets the kit down on the floor. “Do you want to go to the hospital to get it looked at?”

Minseok shakes his head.

“Okay.” Luhan slides back up the bed and lies down, pulls Minseok into his arms, traces gentle fingers up and down his back. “Are you feeling better now?”

Minseok nods, then shrugs.

“I broke your mom’s vase,” he says, trying to keep his voice from trembling and not doing a very good job at it.

“It’s okay,” Luhan says, and nudges Minseok’s injured foot with his toe. “She got you back.”

Minseok gives a wet little laugh and buries his face in Luhan’s shoulder. Luhan just hugs him for a minute, his hand rubbing soothing circles between Minseok’s shoulder blades. Finally, he sighs.

“Do you really think I’m cheating on you?”

Minseok shakes his head, face still pressed to Luhan’s throat.

“Good,” says Luhan. “Because I would never - you’ve got to know I’d never-”

“I know,” Minseok mumbles. “I’m sorry-”

“It’s okay.” Luhan presses a kiss to the side of Minseok’s head. “It’s okay, I forgive you.” He nuzzles there for a moment, lips tracing through the sweat at Minseok’s temple. “I’m sorry I talk so much about my friends,” he adds. “You’re right, I should pay more attention to you. It’s just, we’re so close I sometimes forget we’re not the same person, you know? Do you ever get that feeling?”

Minseok nods. He knows that feeling well. It’s jarring sometimes, in the moments when he and Luhan disagree and he remembers that they’re two separate people with lives and minds of their own rather than just one soul inhabiting two bodies.

“I’ll remind myself to be more attentive,” Luhan says, then kisses Minseok’s head again.

“You should have a ‘friends jar’,” Minseok suggests. “Put a dollar into it every time you talk about them. At the end of the week you buy me dinner.”

Luhan laughs and cuddles him closer. “Sounds like a plan. Man, I’m gonna be so poor.”

“It’s your own fault,” Minseok says.

“Yeah, it is.” Minseok feels Luhan smile against his skin. “Oh, by the way.” Luhan rolls slightly away and sticks a hand into his pocket. “It didn’t quite go under the fridge. I dunno, do you still want it?”

Between his fingers he is holding Minseok’s engagement ring, the one he’d taken off and thrown on the kitchen floor. Minseok flushes, embarrassed in retrospect to have made such a dramatic gesture, but Luhan is grinning, wiggling the ring back and forth in front of Minseok’s face.

“Yeah, I guess,” Minseok says, and holds up his hand so Luhan can slide the ring back on. “I mean, I might as well. It’s not like anyone else would have you.”

“Damn right.” Luhan rolls back on top of him and kisses him again, and Minseok smiles against his lips.

Perhaps no-one but Luhan can drive him this crazy - but equally, no-one but Luhan can make him this supremely happy. As Luhan traces a gentle thumb across his lip, Minseok thinks he’s willing to take both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please do not refuse medical care if you have stepped on broken glass, even if you have a loving deer boyfriend to kiss it better. Deer saliva is not the same as phoenix tears. Foot infections are nasty shit.


	2. P.S.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is primarily about the angry sex, but if you want some reassurance that Minseok and Luhan's relationship isn't actually abusive, here it is.

_Luhan is standing in front of him, hands full of yellow roses._

_What do you think about these for the wedding?_

_Beautiful, Minseok tells him, Beautiful like you, and then Luhan is giving him the flowers, giving them and giving them until Minseok’s arms overflow, until the flowers fall to the floor, and every one that hits the ground is a betrayal._

_I’ll love you forever, Luhan tells him, But why can’t you just hold my roses?_

_You’re giving me too many, Minseok cries, scrabbling for the dropped petals. His hands aren’t working, he can’t grip, he keeps letting more and more fall and Luhan won’t stop forcing them into his arms-_

_But this is what I have to give, Luhan says, This is all I have for you. Why won’t you take these flowers?_

_It’s too much! Minseok is screaming now, and he knows it’s an overreaction, knows he doesn’t have to hold the flowers, he could give them back, or put them on the table, but his arms are hemorrhaging flowers and he’s crying, wailing and weeping and clawing to pick them up as they fall._

_Luhan smacks him across the face._

_All I want is to give you flowers!_

_I don’t want your fucking flowers!_

_Then why didn’t you tell me that before we started dati-_

“Baby.”

Minseok jolts against the bed.

“Shh, it’s okay. You were just having a nightmare.”

Luhan’s hand is stroking through his hair, patting at his shoulder, soothing and grounding and pulling him from the last remnants of the dream.

“Mm- j’st a bad dream.”

“Yeah.” Luhan kisses his forehead. “You okay?”

Minseok turns his face towards the smell of Luhan’s pyjamas. “You hit me.”

“Oh no.” Luhan’s hand is gentle on his shoulder.

“You’ve never hit me before.”

“Well. I still haven’t.”

“Mmm. True.”

He snuggles closer, and is just about to let himself drift back into sleep when Luhan’s hand squeezes just that tiny amount around his arm, just enough to keep him awake.

“Sweetie,” Luhan begins, and wriggles back enough to look at Minseok’s face. “Are we going to talk about last night?”

Minseok blinks at him. _What happened last night?_

As if on cue, his foot throbs.

_Oh. Right._

“Do you need coffee first?” Luhan says. “Sorry, I should let you wake up properly.”

Minseok shakes his head. His heart is steadily sinking through his stomach, and he thinks he might be sick. “I’m awake.”

“Okay.” Luhan sighs and traces a finger down the side of Minseok’s face. “The vase.”

_In pieces on the kitchen floor._ Minseok feels his own face crumple. “I know, I’m sorry, it was your mom’s gift-”

“It’s not that you broke it,” Luhan interrupts him. “It’s the fact that you threw it _at me._ ”

Minseok stops. Luhan is still stroking his face, gentle and sweet and soft, but there’s a little crease between his eyebrows and it hurts in Minseok’s soul.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“Baby, you cannot-” Luhan closes his eyes and lets out a breath. “You cannot get physical with me like that, that’s not okay.”

“I know,” Minseok says. “I know, that was fucked up, I’m really sorry.” He reaches for Luhan, touches his chest. “Did I hurt you?”

“No.” Luhan opens his eyes. “But that’s not the point.”

“I know. I know. I’ll never do it again.”

His fingers slide along the collar of Luhan’s pyjama shirt, over his shoulder, down to hold his bicep. How could he have tried to hurt this?

“Minseok, I have never seen you like that before,” Luhan says. “Never. You must have been keeping that bottled up for a long time, huh? And I want to believe that it would never happen again… but I think-”

_-we should break up._ Minseok’s heart chokes into his eyes. _No, no, please don’t leave me-_

“- you should see a counsellor or someone,” Luhan says. “If you’re feeling that out of control… that’s something you need to work through.”

Minseok’s eyes begin to sting a little. “I’m sorry,” he whispers again, “I’m sorry, Lu, I don’t know why I- I-”

“Hey.” Luhan takes Minseok’s hand from his shoulder and clasps it between both of his own. “It doesn’t mean you’re a bad person. Look, what happened last night - that’s not okay.” He ducks his head to look Minseok in the eyes. “But it is okay to ask for help.”

Minseok nods. He can feel his bottom lip twitching, and he sucks it into his mouth to hold it still.

“I think I need some help as well,” Luhan adds. “In hindsight it would have been better for me to walk away and take a time out - but I wanted to get you away from all that glass, and then you were kicking me, and I sort of. I lost it a little.”

“It wasn’t your fault.” Minseok can feel the tears shivering in his eyes as he shakes his head.

“Maybe not. But I could have handled it better. And I shouldn’t have thrown the first aid kit at you, I’m sorry.”

“It wouldn’t have hurt,” Minseok says, “it’s just a soft little box. And I deserved it.”

Luhan makes a noise in his throat. “Neither of us deserved anything that happened last night, okay?” He strokes Minseok’s knuckles with his thumb. “Look, neither you nor I are perfect, and I know you’ve always been a little bit jealous, but this was just too far. It’s something that we need to fix. And that’s doable. Alright?”

Minseok nods.

“I know I need to get better at listening to you as well,” Luhan adds, “so that’s something that I’ll work on.”

“Mhm.”

“Are you okay?”

Minseok’s lip wobbles out of his mouth. “Can I have a hug?”

Luhan laughs. “Of course you can.” He gathers Minseok into his arms, pulls him in so that every inch of Minseok’s body is pressed against his, and squeezes him tightly. It’s warm and sure and familiar, and the way Minseok’s head is nestled under Luhan’s chin feels so safe and protected that the tears just trickle out on their own.

“Minseokkie, you’re my soulmate,” Luhan murmurs. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want you to be happy and feel safe when you’re with me. And if we argue, that’s fine, but I want it to be with words, not fists.”

Minseok buries his face in Luhan’s collar and nods.

“I love you,” he whispers.

“I love you too. You’re the single most precious thing in my life, and I want you to feel better than this.” Luhan kisses the top of his head. “What do you say, darling, shall we go on a therapy date?”

Minseok laughs despite himself, a tiny wet sound smothered in Luhan’s pyjamas. “Sure.”

“I’m so pumped to find some super healthy ways to deal with anger and insecurity.”

It’s the same voice that Luhan uses when he comes home with a fancy new piece of kitchen equipment, a toaster or a food processor or a knife that can slice through steel. _Look, babe, it has a setting for making spaghetti sauce!_ The things that Luhan gets excited about because he knows they’re important to Minseok.

“I’m gonna go clean up the glass in the kitchen,” Luhan says, “and then after breakfast I’m taking you to the doctor to have your foot looked at. And while we’re there I’m going to ask if they know any good relationship counsellors. Does that sound like a good plan?”

“Yeah.” Minseok pulls back enough to smile up at him, wobbly and soggy but a smile nonetheless.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Luhan wipes Minseok’s tears away with one gentle thumb. “We’ll be alright. Just think - we’re gonna have the healthiest marriage in the world.”

“If you still want to marry me.”

“Of _course_ I still want to marry you, you fool.” Luhan kisses the tip of his nose. “I knew you were an angry kid long before I ever got up the guts to ask you out. But there’s good and bad ways to express that anger, and we’re gonna figure out what the good ways are, okay? For both of us.”

Minseok smiles a little wider this time, and when Luhan ducks his head to kiss him it tastes less like guilt and more like hope.

-

The front door slams.

Minseok turns around from the kitchen counter, dropping his knife and wiping the water off his hands onto his pants. “You’re home!”

There’s an answering shout from the other room, and a minute later Luhan appears in the doorway.

“How was work?” Minseok asks, stepping around the counter to greet him. “I’ve only been home twenty minutes, dinner’s on the way.”

Luhan sighs and catches Minseok by the waist. “It sucked,” he says. “It really fucking sucked.”

“Oh no. What happened?”

“Hm.” Luhan leans forward and rests his chin on Minseok’s shoulder. “Do you want me to give you the short version, or talk your ear off?”

“You can talk my ear off if you do it while you help me chop the vegetables.”

“Sounds good.” Luhan straightens up and tilts Minseok’s chin up for a kiss. “How was therapy?”

Minseok shrugs. “It was alright. More assertive communication stuff. Work was good, though. I’ve got a story to tell you, but you go first.”

Luhan turns to the fridge and scribbles a big star on the whiteboard stuck to the front. “Don’t let me forget,” he says, pointing to it. “I want to hear that story.”

“Okay.” Minseok smiles and kisses him again. “Can you cut up the cabbage?”

“Yes, I can.” Luhan slides another chopping board out from behind the knife block. “What are we making?”

“Stir fried noodles. I’ve got a new sauce I want to try, the girl at the store recommended it.”

“ _Yum_ , I can’t wait.”

“So what happened at work?” Minseok asks, as he returns to his own board full of carrots.

“Well, it started when Kris spilled his coffee on the board report.”

“Oh, not again. What is this, the third time?”

“The fourth!”

“What an idiot.”

“Right? And then _Tao_ said…”


End file.
